11. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Marshall
O nly assholes in untested shiny armor fight a dragon.
Dragons are protective of their valuables. Don’t fuck with them or their stuff.
As a pansexual, or maybe bisexual, depending on your definition, a man in the lifestyle, also known as a dragon, there’s not a lot I say no to.
I enjoy sex. I enjoy people. I enjoy sex with those people.
I fuck hot wives and vixens while their stags watch. I make cuckolds cower in corners. I’ll fuck you if you’re single or not.
As long as there’s enthusiastic consent and everyone’s enjoying themselves, I’m game.
There are no attachments and no obligations.
I liked my single dragon status.
I owned it .
But now that’s changing, and the protective impulses I used to have toward my friends are coming out tenfold now that Elsie’s become my family.
She’s convinced herself that I’m going to be a nuisance in her life and a failure as a father, but I’m determined to prove her wrong.
I want this.
Was I anticipating my life to change in a matter of a few words? Not really.
But here we are, and I couldn’t be more on board.
I’ve always wanted a big family, just like the one I grew up in. I had a good childhood, and I’m determined to make sure that my children have the same love and stability.
My biggest concern, though, is that Elsie will be resistant to having me around.
I know how she values her independence.
She doesn’t need a savior or a protector.
She’s no damsel in distress.
She’s a queen.
Elsie insisted that we go about our night as though nothing had changed. She doesn’t want anyone to know about the baby yet, and despite the fact that our entire relationship has changed in a matter of weeks, I’m still just a friend.
Hence why, I’ve been watching her from the corner of The Club, where I sit next to my friends Zuri, the founder of an adult toy company, and Ivy, one of the club’s volunteer employees.
The two-story club itself stands separate from the resort, but its distinct design draws attention from anywhere you stand on the grounds.
Inside the club, every inch has been thoughtfully designed to elicit desire from the members who patronize it .
The lobby is practically an art gallery, each wall adorned with paintings of sensual moments in every style of design and perspective. Bird cages, the inspiration for the club’s distinct logo, hang from the ceiling and act as chandeliers to light the lobby.
Though it’s inside that really draws people in.
When you enter, the space opens to reveal a central dance floor around which everything else revolves. The second floor of the club, where the majority of the playrooms and BDSM equipment are, looks down on the dance floor, providing the perfect opportunity to watch as people dance and drink the night away. There, everything is on display.
There are small nooks and crannies throughout the club, too, as well as alcoves to escape to with your partner—or not your partner—for a quick tryst.
The first floor, though, is mostly seating for people to gather and mingle. There is a bar at the back where patrons can retrieve a setup with ice, cups, and mixers for the evening.
Right now, my attention is entirely on the man standing a little too close to Elsie at the bar, and it’s testing every boundary I have not to storm over and demand he back the fuck away from her.
Watching my queen from across the club being hit on by this sleazebag has my hackles raised.
The dipshit hunting after my baby mama is begging for a fist in his face.
“You gonna step in?” Zuri asks as she follows my gaze across the club.
“She’s fine,” I say, knowing Elsie would kill me if I intervened.
“Smart move.” Ivy chimes in, sipping on the drink in her customized tumbler. “Elsie can take care of herself. ”
“Sure, she can.” Zuri agrees. “I’m not worried about Elsie. It’s the guy who doesn’t know what’s coming.”
I glance back over at the interaction happening across the room and wince when the man puts his hand on Elsie’s hip.
“Oh. He’s so dead.” Ivy giggles tipsily, which gets me moving.
Time passes in slow motion as I watch Elsie glance down at the man’s hand on her. Thankfully, I’m already across the room and meeting them where they stand at the club’s central bar before she can do anything about it.
“Problem here?” I interrupt, wrapping Elsie in my arms and pulling her back protectively against my chest.
“Nope. Not at all.” The man says, meeting my eyes with his unimpressed look.
“I’ve got it, Marshall.” My ice princess says coolly.
Leaning down, I whisper in her ear. “You can’t fight him, Elsie.”
When she turns to look at me with her brilliant ice-blue eyes, I freeze. “I know that. Let me. Handle. This.”
I loosen my grip around her waist, but I don’t fully let her go in case she decides to pounce and rip out his heart.
“Marius, right?” She says, her voice going subzero.
“Marcus.” He corrects.
“Right, whatever.” She continues with a roll of her eyes. “If I wanted you to touch me, then I would invite you to do so. But seeing as I have less interest in that than I do in remembering your name, I suggest you leave.”
I suppress a smile when the man’s jaw drops fully.
“Fine.” He says, turning on his heel before mumbling under his breath. “Frigid bitch. ”
When he’s fully retreated, Elsie turns her cold glare on me and shoves a pointed finger in my chest.
“Don’t fucking do that again.” She scolds. “I don’t need you to save me, Marshall.”
Despite being a whole foot and a half shorter than me, Elsie exudes power like the badass CEO she is.
That said, at 4’ 11”, she’s still adorable, especially since her auburn curls are out of control after dancing and shaking her perfectly round ass all night.
“Marshall. Tell me you’re not going to do it again.” She commands.
I hesitate, and she gives me a deadly look that gets my lips moving.
“I promise not to intervene next time,” I say carefully.
“Good. Now. You’re coming with me.” Elsie says, grabbing me by my collared shirt and dragging me in the direction of the private bedrooms. “And I’m fucking you senseless until I’m no longer pissed off.”
“Yes, my queen.” I laugh as she drags me along. “Use me as your personal dildo.”
“Shut up, toy.” She says with a grin.
Toy .
The endearment sends a shiver down my spine.
I’ve been called many things by partners, but never that .
With anyone else, I might have an issue with a term like toy, but with Elsie, it feels natural.
If being her plaything is what she needs from me, then that’s what I’ll be for her.
If this is how I get close to her, show her I’m not going anywhere, then I’m in .
Elsie pulls me through the club, and I can’t help but beam with the small claim she exerts by wrapping her hand around mine as we go.
We are stopped on occasion to talk to acquaintances and friends. Though the impatience in Elsie’s jaw, like she really does want this, wants me, gives me a thrill like no other.
Zuri and Ivy give me a knowing look as we pass them to go up the stairs to the second-floor playrooms, and I wink back at their smirks.
Even though our friend group might not know what’s going on with Elsie and me, they likely have an idea.
The second floor of the club, where all of the play areas are set up, wraps around the balcony that looks down onto the dance floor below. It is split into two areas.
We come up the stairs that lead to an area with a St. Andrew’s Cross, spanking bench, and hard point set up in the center for rope suspension scenes. Couches wrap around the space, with plenty of seating for a crowd to gather and watch whoever is being put on the equipment for a scene. On the mirror side, there’s a similar set-up with a voyeur bed at the center of the space for public play.
Elsie drags me through the throng of people who have gathered to watch our friends, Alvie and Bex, put on a show on the cross. Elsie glances into a few of the rooms, only to find them occupied with people already fucking, but she keeps searching until we get to the final bedroom in the row.
We walk into the empty room, and Elsie quickly closes the door behind us, locking it with a click.
“Strip.” She commands.